Definitions of Normal
by DemonicLucario
Summary: Fanfiction of HC SVNT Dracones, a space-based tabletop RPG. 1st chapter is an introduction. Will have gore and violence.
1. Introduction

_**Definitions of Normal**_

A FanFiction by DemonicLucario

[ I ]

* * *

 _Wherein there is an introduction_

 **The Setting:**

The Sol System, seven hundred years after the fall of humanity

 **The People:**

Those known as Vectors: In essence, Humans who look like animals.

Those known as Cogs: in essence, living androids.

 **The Government:**

The Corporations, of which there are six

 **~ Dramatis Personae ~**

(The Cast)

 _Dennis Hadrian_

The Protagonist

The inopinatum variabilis

 _Rastann Sk'rim_

The Doctor

 _Chronicle_

The Archivist

 _Mango_

The Brute

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 _God not only plays dice, but also sometimes throws them where they cannot be seen._ -Stephen Hawking


	2. Chapter 1

_Definitions of Normal_

By DemonicLucario

Disclaimer: HC SVNT Dracones (HSD) does not belong to me.

[ 1 ]

* * *

Normal. What is normal? Is it society's ever-changing worldview? Is it something that is constant, or fluctuating? What does it mean to be normal? Is it to conform to society's standard, or to be yourself, and damn the consequences? I remember thinking these things. In fact, those were the first thoughts I had in that place. I call it 'that place' because at the time I didn't know where I was. I wasn't an amnesiac, I knew _who_ I was, but I was floating, in a sea of blackness. I couldn't feel anything. It was then that I decided that my situation - whatever it was- was decidedly _not normal_. After all, It's not every day you regain consciousness after dying. Of course, it is possible to come back from death, what with our technology, but I was later told that it should have been impossible. Anyway, That was the last thing I remembered before waking up in that place. It was a normal - hah- mission, a simple drug bust. Me and my partner, Jef, were raiding a derelict corporate building. With us were a group of mercs, all of them radically different from one another. The first one, the leader, never introduced himself. In fact, he never spoke directly to either of us. He was stealthy, once we entered the building I never saw hide nor hair of him, not once. The second one was ensconced in massive powered armour, I couldn't tell what species, he was completely covered. He didn't say much to us after his introduction. He told us his name was Mango. He sounded smug to me, but maybe it was just pre-op nerves. The last one was the one who looked normal. He was a serious-looking komodo dragon, clad in light armour and a helmet. He was the only one of the group who really interacted with us. He was polite, but clipped, Informing us of the information that the leader had already gathered. His name was Rastann Sk'rim, and he was a doctor. The op started off quietly, as they usually do. Also as they usually do, it went sour quickly. We had to go up against 5, no, 7 combatants? It's hard to remember, as I was entirely focused on the fight. That's what IRPF - the Inner Ring Police Force - teaches in the academy, that you have to stay focused on the fight. It was going well for us, as far as I could tell. And then I got shot. Of course, I had armour, but I still took several bullets from an enemy assault rifle. After that I was in a haze of pain, It was hard to tell how long. The next thing that I knew after that was the doctor, Rastann, leaning over me. And pain, lots of pain. He must have given me an anesthetic, because the pain was numbed after that. He patched me up, and updated me on the situation. Apparently all the combatants on our floor had been dealt with. Jef was heading for the stairs, so I followed. The doc was jogging there with me. All of us minus the leader were there at the base of the stairwell. Jef looked back at me, looking for confirmation. I nodded back to him, and he started up the stairs. When he reached the top, he turned to tell us something.

And then his head exploded.

The world ground to a halt. It replayed over and over in my mind, him turning, and then ...

I vaguely remember screaming. He was _right there_ , and, and - the next thing that crossed my mind was that Rastann was holding me, and that I was crying. There was no connection, one moment, It was Jef, the next, I was sitting with my back to a wall. I don't remember sitting down, my legs must have given out on me. I was still shaking violently. It was a few minutes - and sweet nothings -before I could do anything _but_ shake. After that I was ok, or, at least, I thought I was. Looking back I must not have been. I remember being angry, so angry that I wanted the whole building, no, the whole _city_ to just vanish. Jef and I had been through everything with each other, we were practically brothers, and he just _died_? Just like that? Hell yeah I was angry. I wanted those fuckers to _pay_ for what they did. Rastann tried to hold me back, he put a hand on my chest, and said something about reload times. I was too angry to recall it properly, but either way I didn't listen. I ran out onto the landing. Immediately, I was shot. The pain was incredible. I tried to run, but I must have failed, because the last thing I remember was a muzzle flash

And then everything went black.


	3. Chapter 2

_Definitions of Normal_

By DemonicLucario

Disclaimer: See first chapter

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[ 2 ]

As I said earlier, I couldn't sense anything in that place. No sound, light, touch, smell, or taste. There was no sense of time, I could have been in there forever, or only for minutes. It was hard to tell whether I was conscious, or dreaming, or whether I was even alive. Somewhere in that haze I realized that I had died. There was no other explanation. Was this the afterlife? I didn't know. Random thoughts came and went as they saw fit. A forever (a microsecond, an eon) came and first sense that came back to me was sound. It was very faint, almost unnoticeable, but to me, it was like the roaring of a forest fire. I realized that it was the sound of air, the almost-unnoticed whirr of a processing system so often heard that it melts into the background without a second thought. I focused on it, my entire mind, on that noise. It was the most concrete evidence of my existence that I had. I knew when I was awake. It was comforting, a lifeline. I realized that I was floating. I could feel gravity, so I wasn't on a ship. I had to be floating _in_ something. I tried to feel it. I failed. I couldn't feel any of my limbs, it was like I was just a speck, a singular grain suspended in that infinite sea (pond, raindrop). The sound cradled me. I remembered my eyes. I tried to open them, over and over, I wanted to _see_ , to break myself out of that place, where I was haunted by the whims of my subconscious. There was a spark. Something so small, it could be mistaken for nothing. It was blinding. I saw. I _saw_! Granted, I didn't see anything in particular, but the act of seeing _anything_ sent my entire being into a rush of euphoria. I was _free from that place_! Again and again I opened my eyes just a tiny amount. With sight came other senses. I could hear things, muffled, but still there, people talking, machinery, and the comforting whirr faded into the background as it had always done. I could feel that I was, as I had suspected, floating in a liquid. There was a mask over my snout, probably to keep me from air that it was feeding me had no smell whatsoever, and I couldn't taste anything but my own dry mouth. Slowly, I regained my ability to see. What I could see was blurred and tinted purple from being in the liquid, but I recognized some things, people, mostly. There was always a person near my container, I could never make them out clearly, but I was aware that I was near someone alive. What were they doing? I couldn't tell. My eyes were directly in the liquid, but I wasn't in pain, so it must not be an irritant. At that thought I came to a realization, _I wasn't in pain_. Considering what I had gone through (from what I could remember), I should have been in quite a lot of it ,really, and yet I felt just fine. In fact, I hadn't felt hungry, thirsty, or felt the call of nature in all the time I spent in that tank. Despite my newfound consciousness, I still didn't have any way to tell the time, but I was there long enough to get _very bored_. I swear that I could feel my mind flip-flopping its way out of my nose. This went on for, well, I didn't know how long. Then, something exciting happened. There was a change, a shift, or rather, a shake. The entire container was shaking. It was exciting, it was something different. The shaking was random, and I could hear muffled gunshots from somewhere. I wanted to _do_ something, but I was powerless. The gunshots got closer. I could hear yelling. When the combat -for that is what it was- got to my room, I was both worried and desperate. Worried that I would get shot, and desperate to _move_ , to finally get out of that container-cell. After an indefinite amount of time, the noise of combat stopped. There was a yell: "We're going to get you out of there, do you understand?!" I mustered all of my force, and nodded. It was slight, but it was all I could do. There was a pause, and then something happened. The liquid started to drain. It was slow, but steady. My paws, which I now knew were bare, touched the bottom of the tank. I tried to stand, but I couldn't. I was forced to lower to the bottom with the liquid-level. As the last of the solution swirled down a drain on the bottom, the front of the tank split, like a door, and slid into the sides of the container. I couldn't move, so I stayed where I was, in a heap. I felt hands lift me into a sitting position. One of the hands took me by the chin, and lifted my head up. I stared into a very familiar set of brown eyes.

"But, how are you here? You were dead." Said Rastann.


	4. Chapter 3

_Definitions of Normal_

By DemonicLucario

Disclaimer: See first chapter

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[ 3 ]

"But- how are you here? Y-you were dead!"

His voice was slightly shaky, probably from surprise. I couldn't answer him, as I still couldn't move enough, so it was all I could do to shake my head a tiny amount. Apparently he caught it though. "You can't speak?". I gave him another small shake. "Can you move at all?". Another shake. "Alright" he stated, and leaned down towards me. He took off the breathing mask, and he began to remove things from my fur, which stung slightly when he took them out. "Diodes" he explained, holding one in front of my eyes. It was a tiny needle, attached to a wire. It was a few minutes before he was done. I vaguely noticed the other mercenaries had come into the room at some point. They were saying something, but I was fading in and out and I didn't catch what it was. Rastann was lifting me, I realized. The impression of movement, of being carried, was the last thing I remembered before I truly fell asleep.

When I awoke the first impression that I had was warmth. When I opened my eyes I discovered that I was ensconced in a thick blanket. It was nice, I thought, to have dry, clean fur. I was in an unfamiliar bedroom. I realized that i could move, and sat up. It took more effort than I care to admit. Likewise, it took a grand mustering of my force to slowly shuffle myself off of the bed. I looked over myself and noticed that i had been dressed, though the clothes were unfamiliar.I slowly moved across the room to the window, which was covered. I moved the blinds apart. It was day, and the bright sunlight sparkled off the cityscape. ' _At least I'm on mars'_ I thought. I let the blinds fall back into place, and turned to survey the room. There was a clock on the nightstand, it read _07:39_. The room's door opened. I looked over, and Rastann was standing there, holding a tray with food on it. "You're awake." he said. "Can you speak?" I hadn't tried yet. "Morning" I said. It came out raspy, and very quiet, but he heard me. "Good morning." he replied. "I brought some food, are you hungry?" I was. I told him as much. "Alright then." he set the tray on the small table in the corner. "There's a tea there as well, I recommend that you drink it, it will help with your throat." I nodded. "Good." he paused. "After you're done, please come to the kitchen, we have a lot to talk about." "ok" I replied.

The food turned out to be a stew, rather inappropriate for breakfast, but it was good. The tea, to my surprise, wasn't bad, and it helped the dryness in my throat rather nicely. As instructed, I made my way to the kitchen, bringing the leftover dishes with me. It wasn't far, and I had regained some strength from the hearty meal, but it was still slow-going. Rastann was sitting at a table when I came in, drinking what smelled like coffee and reading something on his toggle. "Was the food alright?" he asked. "It was good." I replied, my voice stronger and less grating than before. "Thank you." "No problem." he said. He stood up and walked over to me. "Here, hand me those.", he said, referring to the dishes in my hands. I handed them over, and he took them to the sink. He pointed to one of the chairs around the table. "Please sit" he said. I sat. "What's the last thing you remember?" he asked. "Before the tank, or -?" I fished. "Yes, before the tank." "It was…" I hesitated. "The mission". "The bust?" he asked. He seemed tense. "Yes", I replied. "Damn. So you remember…" he faded off. "Dying?" I said. He flinched slightly. "Not exactly, but i must have. I don't know how long I was in that tank, but it was long enough to think about what happened". I explained. "Four months" he said. "Sorry, what?" "Four months" he repeated. "You were in the tank for four months". "I… died four months ago?" I asked, for clarification. "No" he answered, "you died five months ago. The scientists running the lab put you in that tank after you supposedly appeared out of thin air. We got all this from their records". I didn't know exactly how to respond to that. He sat down. "I'm sorry" he blurted out. "For what?" I asked. "For not stopping you. I could have stopped you from going up there, but-" I cut him off: "don't be sorry. I was shitfaced on painkillers, shock and anger, there was nothing you could have done, nothing." He seemed surprised. "Do you really believe that?" he said. "Yes." I replied. And I did. I changed the topic: "Do you know who the scientists were?" "They worked for TTI" he answered. I was confused "TTI, really? I didn't think they were the types." I said. Transcendent Technology Incorporated made a lot of things, living armor, Cuil-based implants, but, as far as I knew, were fairly, well, fair. "I don't know what exactly you've heard about TTI" Rastann said, "but they run _way_ deeper than anyone realizes." he looked almost sick. "The shit they do… it's horrible." he paused. "They tried to make a drug that gave them complete control over someone's mind". He said. "We stopped them, but that's the kind of shit they do." "Shit" I stated. "By 'we' you mean your group?" "Yeah" he said. "We've gained a few members, and we're doing what we can to stop TTI from bringing whatever plan they have to its end". "Do you know what that plan is?" I asked. "Not entirely." he answered. "We've picked up bits and pieces of it from various jobs, but we don't have enough to know what it is yet".

I didn't know exactly how to respond to that, so I changed the subject again: "Thank you for the clothes". There was the unspoken " _and washing me_ " that was conveyed by that as well. "It was no trouble" he said, "I couldn't just leave you soaking wet and unconscious, after all". "Well, thanks all the same" I said. I stood up. "Where are you going?" he asked. "Back to the IRPF" I said. The plan was simple in my mind, go back to the IRPF, report what I know, get someone to do something about it. It was also immediately derailed. "You can't" he said. I turned. "Why not?" "Because you _died_." he said. "And it's not even that" he continued, "when you were killed, the sniper tried to run to get away. He crushed your head with his boot- it shouldn't have been possible to bring you back from the dead!" he was shouting now. He stopped. When he spoke again, it was quiet. "Sorry, but it's just that-". "What?" I asked. "I can't think of any reason that you're alive". He said. "It was the shock of my life seeing you there when I emptied the tank. I was so guilty- I had nightmares about that mission for months, and then, there you were, sitting on the bottom of that tank, _alive_ , it just-" he cut off. "Lets not think about that" I said. "Ok, so I can't go back to the IRPF, so what do I do now?" I had honestly zero Ideas. "Well" he said.

"You could join up with us…"


End file.
